


Laundry Day

by abductedgoblin



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: It’s cute it’s light it’s smutty, Lemons, M/M, Smut, domestic life, im old enough to tag this as lemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 18:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abductedgoblin/pseuds/abductedgoblin
Summary: Arthur’s been so busy with work that he’s been missing out on keeping his house clean and spending time with his boyfriend! Oh woe is he and Francis, who has to deal with Arthur in a tight shirt. (Just a one shot smut fic to get back in the game)





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while since I’ve written anything (about.. four or five years) so I’m sorry if this is a little rough

For the first day in weeks Arthur was not working. He had been so busy that he hadn’t gotten to see Francis and- well- while he missed his boyfriend perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. Even though they loved each other, it was very easy to get on each other’s nerves and Arthur really didn’t need that on top of everything else he had been dealing with.

Along with not seeing his boyfriend, Arthur has been so short on time that his house had fallen into disarray, which just added to his stress. So, after sleeping in for the first time in what felt like forever, Arthur decided to spend his day off cleaning his house, it was the responsible thing to do after all.

He started his cleaning off with his first load of laundry. He was dangerously close to running out of underwear; his only clean pair left had a hole in them, so he started it off with his delicates. Then he turned to the dishes he had let pile up, thank god he had at least rinsed them off, some of the dishes were over a week old, and he didn’t want to think of what would be growing on them otherwise. He dusted, and swept, and his first load of laundry was done being washed.

Next load was his shirts and jackets. He moved his wet clothes into his dryer and tossed his dirty clothes in the washer. Just as he was about to hit start he paused and decided to clean the shirt he was wearing too- he had pulled it out of his hamper after all. Into the washer it went, and Arthur went to his bedroom to find a different shirt to wear. The only clean shirt he had left was a shirt from the 90’s that was a little too small and plastered with a torn looking Union Jack. Dejected he put it on anyway, and accepted that for the next two hours his arms would be a little restricted and that he couldn’t lift them without showing his stomach. At least he was alone in his own home.

Then, there came a knock at his door.

“Perfect timing,” he grumbled, shuffling his way to the front door. “Hello,” he started as he opened the door, only to be interrupted.

“Bonjour, mon ami!” Declared Francis, bursting his way into Arthur’s home, “I came to surprise you!” The Frenchman leaned in and kissed his boyfriend hello. “You have been so busy, I missed you so mu- oh dear lord what are you wearing?” His question was tinted with laughter.

Arthur felt his cheeks burn as he crossed his arms, trying his best to hide the clearly outdated and tacky shirt, but that just emphasized how small it was on him, as his arms bulged through the fabric. “I’m doing my laundry, this was my only clean shirt.”

Francis nodded, silently appreciating how good Arthur looked in such a tight shirt. “And here I thought you were wearing it to tease me,” he joked, and Arthur’s cheeks burned brighter.

“How could I possibly be doing that if you didn’t even warn me that you were coming over?!”

“Oh, I most certainly texted you,” Francis said, “it’s not my fault that you don’t check your phone.” And he was right, Arthur hadn’t looked at his phone at all that day.

“I- you- argh,” he grumbled, giving in and finally dropping his arms. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Francis winked, “how about a tall glass of you?”

Arthur groaned, “I haven’t heard that one a thousand times before.” This caused Francis to pout, and so Arthur leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek, “you know I’m teasing you.”

At this Francis lit up, “You know I’m pretending to be sad so you will kill me.”

“Of course,” Arthur wrapped his arms around Francis’ waist. “And you know,” he said with a smirk, leaning in so that his and Francis’ lips were almost touching. Francis had to fight the urge to close that gap between them, he loved when Arthur instigated, and despite the fact that they’d been dating for years, he could still feel his pulse quickening.

“That,” Arthur paused, and then pulled away quickly and started walking towards his kitchen, “I have to finish cleaning before we can have any fun.”

Francis frowned, it looked like their fun would have to wait. Still, he enjoyed watched his boyfriend walk away, with just a bit of his back peaking out from under his tacky shirt. The shirt was tight enough that the outline of Arthur’s body was clearly visible. Still, Francis wanted that shirt on the floor and that body under his hands. There was only one thing he could do, as Francis too made his way into Arthur’s kitchen.

“How can I help?” He asked, somewhat distracted by the Brits butt now that Arthur was bent over and rummaging through his cleaning products. Francis was slightly bothered, obviously Arthur was doing this on purpose. Francis got so lost in his own thoughts that he almost missed what Arthur said.

“Mop the floor?” Francis asked.

“Yes, here,” Arthur pulled out an off-brand floor cleaner. “Add this and hot water in a bucket and- you can find the mop and bucket in the shoe closet- Hey! Why didn’t you take your shoes off? I just swept!”

Francis leaned down to untie his shoes, “I was a little distracted,” he muttered, before meeting Arthur’s glare. “You can’t be mad at me when you were the one teasing me,” he joked.

Arthur sighed and pulled out more cleaning supplies for himself. “It’ll be a big help to me if you mop while I clean the bathroom.” He made his way out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom, armed with his supplies. He stopped next to Francis, who was now looking rather deflated, holding his shoes in one hand and the floor cleaner in the other. “Thank you, my dear,” he said gently, before leaving the kitchen, making sure that his arm brushed Francis’.

“Whatever,” the Frenchman replied with a small smile.

——

It didn’t take long for Arthur to clean his bathroom, although, he didn’t do a very thorough job. He was distracted now that Francis was here, and he was enjoying teasing the Frenchman.

He left his bathroom feeling proud of himself and made his way to the living room where Francis was mopping. The tile in Arthur’s home extended from entryway, through the living room the the kitchen. With the exception of the bathroom, the rest of Arthur’s home was carpeted, so he knew it wouldn’t take Francis very long to mop.

“Wait!” Francis exclaimed as Arthur almost stepped into the living room, “I already mopped there! It’s wet!”

“Well how am I supposed to put this away?” Arthur questioned, shrugging to emphasize the cleaning supplies he was holding.

“Just leave them in the bathroom until the floor is dry,” Francis hissed, holding up the mop as a pretend weapon, “if you mess this floor up I will attack.”

Arthur rolled his eyes before going back to his bathroom, putting the supplies on the counter, and then returning to where his hallway ended and the living room began.

“Hey, genius, how are you supposed to get over here if you trapped yourself on my living room rug?”

“Oh? I think I’ll be fine waiting for the floor to dry,” Francis replied smugly, as he finished mopping the last section of the floor. “I have the tele and my phone.” He put the mop in the bucket and sat on the couch.

Arthur crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. “You’re missing something rather important.”

Francis’ vision focused on the triangle Arthur’s of stomach that was showing, “what is that? A former 90’s guitarist?” He laughed as Arthur scowled. “I’ll let you cross,” he shrugged, “and then I’ll just mop it again once you’re over here.”

“You’re making this a bigger deal than the literal body of water between our homes.” Arthur shook his head as he made his way to the rug in the center of his living room.

Francis pouted again, “look at what you did to my hard work.” Arthur’s bare feet had left smudges on the wet tile.

“I guess you’ll have to fix that,” Arthur said without taking his eyes off the Frenchman. “Or…” he trailed off, as he stood in front of Francis, “you could help me with something else.”

Francis once again felt his pulse quicken. It had been quite a while since they had been together, and he was excited to say the least.

“What would that be?” He asked, first looking at that tight shirt again, before moving his gaze up past Arthur’s beautiful shoulders and neck to his green eyes.

Arthur moved himself onto the couch so that he was straddling Francis, without putting any pressure on Francis’ crotch. “Well, I’ve been rather stressed from work, I had so much to do, I hardly got to see my boyfriend and I miss him terribly,” Francis rested one hand on Arthur’s hip and the other on Arthur’s shoulder, his cock was aching, but he loved when Arthur teased him like this. Arthur leaned forward and kissed Francis’s neck before making his way towards the Frenchman’s ear. “I was hoping you could help relieve some of that stress,” he gently spoke, causing the hair on the back of Francis’ neck to raise.

“I’d be happy too,” Francis replied, unaware his grip on Arthur had tightened, “that is if your extremely handsome boyfriend doesn’t mind.”

Arthur moved his hips to just barely grind with Francis’, who let out a soft moan of pleasure. “I’m sure he won’t mind.” The Brit cupped Francis’ cheek with one hand and leaned in to kiss his boyfriend.

It hadn’t been very long since they last made out, but apparently, it had been too long, and as Arthur kissed Francis, Francis kissed back hard and somewhat desperately. It felt good, to say the least, with their bodies pressed together, and as Arthur began to grind his hips on Francis’, his own cock began to throb. Unsurprisingly, Francis knew just what Arthur needed, like he always did, and he somewhat hastily worked on opening the button and zipper on Arthur’s pants before sliding his hand down and rubbing his boyfriend’s dick through his underwear.

Arthur pulled back from their kiss and let out a relieved gasp. “Fuck,” he groaned as he moved his mouth onto Francis’ neck and a hand up the blue eyes mans shirt.

Francis grinned and let out another moan as Arthur sucked on his neck. He was certainly going to leave a mark.

“Let me take this shirt off of you, mon ami, it’s been driving me crazy but that’s only because I want what’s underneath.” Arthur leaned back slightly, making sure he rubbed against Francis’ groin as he did so, so that Francis could pull the outdated shirt off. “Beau diable,” Francis growled before leaving forward and kissing Arthur’s neck. He ran his hands up the Brit’s back as he moved his head down, kissing from beneath Arthur's jaw line down his neck, to his collarbone, and then his shoulder. “I should just tear your clothes off and fuck you right here,” he whispered.

“What’s stopping you?” Arthur retorted, sliding a hand down Francis’ pants, though he didn’t get very far since he forgot to unbutton them.

“I enjoy letting you lead,” Francis said rather cheerily, thought his voice was heavy with lust. “But I think,” he lifted Arthur’s hand away from his pants, “you asked me to help relieve your stress.” Francis gently guided Arthur so that the Brit was now laying on his couch, with Francis’ perched over him. “So let me help with that first, we can focus on me in a minute.” He said this with a wink and then, without giving Arthur a chance for rebuttal, began with kissing the Brit on the lips. As he did so he began the work or pulling off Arthur’s pants. He pulled back, removed his boyfriends pants all the way and tossed them onto the floor.

Arthur thought about making a comment about his pants landing on the wet tile, but decided against it, they could fix that later.

Francis returned to kissing Arthur while he slid his hand in the Brits underwear, first, squeezing his ass, before moving his hand to the front and beginning to run his hand up and down the shaft of Arthur’s dick. The Frenchman kept a steady and somewhat slow rhythm as he moved from kissing Arthur’s lips to his neck. Arthur groaned and pushed his hips upwards.

“Patience,” Francis cooed, taking his hand out and using it to gently tug at Arthur’s hair, for as much as he loved being teased, he loved to tease back. “I love you, mon cherie.”

“I love you too, you git,” Arthur managed, “now can you please keep going.”

Francis laughed, “with pleasure.”


End file.
